The other night I tripped the line
dug a hole and fell inside
filled my head with apple wine
(cleaned it out with wet sunshine)
met a man with snakes for eyes
who told me metronomic lies
with an aftertaste of lemon-lime
so I turned around to try to find
everything I'd ever lost
chewing gum and dental floss
nail-clippers, apartment keys
leather ties and wedding rings
digging through my closet shelves
remembering all the things they'd held
alan ginsberg's howling poem
arrow heads, petoskey stones
my bowling ball and baseball mitt
sleeveless shirts and other bits
of endless summer revelry
in hallowed fields of symmetry
lined up and down with maple trees
shedding silver copper golden leaves
and helicopter swirling seeds
spinning ever onwardly
but ever onward into what?
sunny orange microdots
are swimming in and out of view
I'd lost my mind -- I've lost yours too.

Log in or register to write something here or to contact authors.